


Of Wit and Repartee

by TayBartlett9000



Category: Red Dwarf, hitch hikers guide to the galaxy - douglas adams
Genre: Gen, Humour, awkward social interaction, from one spaceship to another, homage to both red dwarf and douglas adams., rimmer feels sorry for someone, total confusion on the part of Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 10:23:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8009965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TayBartlett9000/pseuds/TayBartlett9000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ford and Arthur accidently end up on the starship Red Dwarf, in total and complete confusion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Wit and Repartee

Author’s note: I do not own either Red Dwarf or h2g2. This is the beginning of a short story series based on these amazing characters so I   hope that they are enjoyed. The title is supposed to reflect the humour of both franchises, for they are both very good with their wit and repartee.

 

Of  Wit and Repartee.

By Tay Bartlett.

 

Space, according to the introduction of that highly remarkable book, “the hitch hiker’s guide to the galaxy,” is far too big and immense for the human mind to comfortably imagine in one sitting. This, due to intense galactic exploration, has turned out to be perfectly true.

This is probably why there is so much room for incredible  coincidences, another factor that has been  deeply discussed by the hitch hikers of the known universe. These coincidences have yielded many and varied results, both good and bad, but it cannot be denied, that the event detailed in this particular entry to the hitch hiker’s guide, is an extraordinary one to say the least. One might even go so far as to call it remarkable.

 The bodies of Ford Prefect and  one of the few remaining human beings left alive, span through the interstellar void like  the kinds of toys that are no longer required. Here and there, the blank eyes of the almost isfixiated life forms picked up  the shapes of asteroids as they swam through space. The two humanoid beings had no possibility of knowing that in a few more crucial seconds, they would be taken away from the  impending death that was consuming their minds, and taken instead to  a ship that had never seen this  sector of  the galaxy before.

“Emergency!” called the dry monotone voice of the ship’s computer, as the alert reached his processers, “Emergency. There’s an emergency going on.” He paused, to see whether or not his  mostly humanoid crew were taking any notice what so ever.  Finding that they were not, he repeated his alert. “Emergency. There’s an emergency going on.”

 Another pause.

 “It’s still going on.”

The computer  was not particularly fond of being  completely ignored by his living colleagues and so, for greater effect, he added a few screeching alarms to his monotone warnings and repeated his call.

“Emergency,” he called again, his voice echoing around the almost empty ship, “will nobody get it into their skulls that  we have  an emergency developing here?”

From his place at a long lunch table,  Dave Lister looked up and scowled at the projected image of Holly on the screen. “Will you shut that racket up Holl?” he demanded with the air of a petulant   teenager who is forced to listen to  a rendition of  his grand parents’ favourite music. “It’s doing my head in.”  

Holly was unperturbed by Lister’s outburst and he  mearly  repeated his statement in a bored and measured voice. “There is an  emergency going on,” he told Lister.

“I’m aware of that,” retorted the Liverpudlian space traveller, taking   another bite of his chicken  vindaloo. He was not worried of course. Holly’s alerts were never really anything much to worry about. The last time he had told his crew of a so called emergency, it had simply been the issue of the lack of after eight mints on bored, which was not a real emergency at all when one stopped  to think about it.

Arnold Rimmer, the hologram who was convinced that he was a lot better than he was, looked up also and  regarded the face of the computer. “What’s gone wrong this time?” he asked calmly, as if he could fix whatever was currently taking place without any effort at all.  

“We’ve picked up a  couple of humanoid creatures,” Holly informed his crew, glad to finally be getting down to the real issues. “They are located in one of the hanger bays, near to where the Starbug is located.”

Lister would have got up, but Rimmer got there first. He sprang  to his feet like an excited child,  a broad smile pasted across his holographic features. “I’ll sort this,” he told the crew in general, making for the door, “I bet these are the aliens that I’ve been searching for all this time.”

As the   second Technition strode from the room, Lister and the being known as the Cat, exchanged exasperated looks. Lister rolled his eyes at the ceiling.  When would his x living bunk mate ever grow up?  Rimmer  was always obsessing over the possibility of alien life and was always on the lookout for sightings of  unusual beings  in the area. Neither Lister, nor the Cat believed that such life forms  could ever and would ever exist, let alone in this particular sector of space.

Neither of them had ever read the Hitch Hiker’s guide to the galaxy of course.

The  second technition marched down the long grey  hallways of the Red Dwarf, excitement welling up within him, similar   to the excitement experienced by a small child on Christmas morning upon seeing a pile of presents—expected but still full of possibility. He had waited for years to come across alien life, and had signed up to the space core specifically for that reason.

So when he arrived at the location that Holly had indicated, and saw the two humanoid creatures standing in the middle of the hanger bay as if they had never seen  such a thing before, he felt the balloon of  exciting possibilities deflate, as if someone had let all of the air out of it. It was as if he could literally feel his heart sinking like a stone, though of course he could not.

One of the two, let’s use simple terms and call them hitch hikers, with ginger hair and a disconcerting smile, looked at Rimmer as he swiftly approached. “Who the hell are you?” he asked, puzzled.

Rimmer halted  before the two individuals and looked from one to the other. The one with the ginger hair and the somewhat unusual smile was almost human in appearance, and yet  also  somehow alien. His companion was so obviously human that Rimmer  felt disappointment clawing at his insides  like a cat snagging brushed Nylon. “Some bloody aliens,” his thought voice muttered mutinously.

“Oh well,”  he thought, “best make a decent show of things.” He turned to the intruders and  gave them one of his patronising smiles. “I am Arnold Rimmer,” he proclaimed in his best authoritative tone, looking the two beings up and down, “and I’m the highest ranking   official on bored this ship.”

The one who  looked  boringly and unflatteringly human, turned to his companion. “We’ve been rescued Ford,” he said with  obvious surprise.

The human’s ginger companion looked round with a glum expression. “Doesn’t look like much,” he admitted, “I mean as  space  ships go, this one’s complete bollocks. I’ve seen trading  ships with sleeker designs than that.”

Rimmer, feeling slightly out of his depth, wished that Kryten had offered to accompany him. The stupid android, though largely useless, would have been  a valuable aid in  establishing introductions with these aliens. He was forced to try and bring the conversation back onto a plane that he understood. “Will you accompany me to the bridge?” he asked the two men standing before him.

The ginger haired man nodded, moving closer to Rimmer. “Thanks mate. We just narrowly escaped Death.”

“Literally,” agreed his human companion.  

The hologram, for that is what Arthur realised he must have been, shot the two living beings a contemptuous glance. “Don’t talk to me about death  my laddo,” he said disdainfully, “I’ve been there. I am dead. I’m dead, unable to touch anything, and I’m alone in space with a man who would lose a battle of wills with a stuffed iguana.”

Ford was confused  beyond measure, and this showed on his face. Ford Prefect did not get all of these strange human sayings for things.  “What’s an iguana?” he asked  puzzled.

Arthur though, had more on his mind than the simple question about the origins and biological attributes of the iguana, and so, he spoke up at last. “What ship is this then?” he  asked, looking around at the  dull grey walls with obvious despondency. Only a few  hours  ago, he had been   a simple Earth dwelling  human, semi pleased with the way that his life had turned out.   Then, he had been taken from his home, thrown into an alien space ship, chucked out of that spaceship, confronted by the human personification of death and dumped on this ship with  an x human who he did not know and  had no desire to know. No way did Arthur want to be here. However, he was in the process of trying to accept  the fact that he had no choice what so ever in the matter. His lot in life was not his own any more.   

Rimmer looked at Arthur, standing before him  in his dressing gown and felt a stab of sympathy for the human. This oddly dressed human, like Rimmer, was in effect, like a fish out of water in this situation. He, like Rimmer, would doubtless be feeling emotions like loss, anger, and hopelessness. It was more or less ok for the human’s friend. That guy looked as if he could be made at home in any situation in a way that neither Rimmer, nor Arthur ever could.  Both men were useless as  neither knew what they were doing. This strange human had no skills or experience of living on a space ship. This, Rimmer could easily tell. He wouldn’t be much use  on board. Rimmer, being  an entity composed entirely of light, had no way of lending a hand in the running of the ship either. He  couldn’t even touch  anything. He could not pick anything up. He could not fly the ship. He didn’t even have the basic abilities to eat or drink. No way would he be able to help Holly in his endless ambition to keep the Red Dwarf running properly.

“This was a mining ship,” Rimmer told the human, unable  to allow this strange feeling of sympathy and sentiment to  enter his voice. So he kept his tone brisk and curt. “The entire crew save one all died in a lethal radiation disaster and now there is only four of us.”

“But I thought you said that only   one crew member survived,” said Arthur.

Rimmer nodded, feeling that it would take a very long time to explain all of this. “Well,” he began, hoping that it would not, “Lister, the only human that  survived, was brought back by our computer after three million years, and then the computer brought me back as a hologram. I was the smeghead’s roommate. Then we found that a being who evolved from Lister’s pregnant cat had  been living on the ship for a while. So there’s me, Lister, the cat and our android friend Kryten. If you could call him a friend that is.”

Arthur stood, mouth   agape as he listened with pure incomprehension.   This was a tangled  web of life forms, one that he had no hope of unravelling. So, a human who died three million years ago was in fact  still alive, and he  had been joined by his dead roommate who was now a hologram. These two men, one three million years old and the other dead but reanimated, lived with a cat like being who had evolved from a  pregnant cat that surely had been alive along with the human, three million years ago. Which meant that…

Arthur stopped thinking. His head was starting to hurt rather badly. So he was glad when Ford took the responsibility for replying out of his hands. “Can we meet these strange bunch of friends?” he asked.

Rimmer nodded and turned round. “Sure,” he said politely, starting to move down the gloomy hallway. “Follow me. Though I do have to say that I think that you are making a serious mistake.”

Ford and Arthur, completely at a  loss for what to do or say, followed the strange individual down the corridor,  positively dreading what would befall them once they reached  the man’s  intended destination.

The Hitch Hiker’s  Guide to the Galaxy, has this to say on the subject of luck. Do not count  on it. In today’s fragmented world when  anything and everything can disappear at any given moment, one would be  a fool if one was to believe that any sort of luck could save them. However, sometimes, Luck does show its face. And it is interesting to note, that luck only shows its face at the times when one does not rely upon it.

 The same  applied to the current plight of Ford Prefect and Arthur Dent. They, just a mear half hour or so ago, had been staring directly into the face of death, about to experience  an event that would change the entire course of their lives, in the most final way possible. Now though, they had  escaped all of that to instead  end up on  an old mining ship  that was going nowhere,  and which was being run by people  who were also going  nowhere. So in short, these two rather  unlucky space travellers  were more or  less marooned on  board the ship, doomed to go nowhere until the end of time.

Luck, says the Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, can also give someone a  less than  desirable alternative to the horror they would have suffered if luck hadn’t shown up to give them a  hand. No one wants to be stranded in the middle of  nowhere, as Ford Prefect could  certainly testify, but even nowhere is better than being dead, is it not?

It may even transpire that both Ford and Arthur come to  look upon this sudden rescue as a  shaft of sunlight in the endless abyss that had been their  existence for some time. But then  again, maybe not.


End file.
